


Not a Mermaid

by sailorstkwrning



Category: Hockey RPF, Montreal Canadiens - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Magical Creatures, selkie!BGally, werebear!AGally
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-29 21:03:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5142374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailorstkwrning/pseuds/sailorstkwrning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They don’t quite know what to do with each other at first. They are room-mates. They are predator and prey.</p><p>Chucky doesn’t understand why Gally is sometimes on edge.</p><p>“You’re a bear,” Gally says, grinning broadly. “Seal’s gotta be careful.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not a Mermaid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jediseagull](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jediseagull/gifts).



> For jedi-seagull, who helped me break my creative logjam by suggesting _any team + your favorite fairytale and/or bit of mythology :D (maybe habs, if you write them? THAT 9-0 START o.O)_ which is . . . only tangentially related to what has happened here.
> 
> Unbeta'd, because I am impatient.

They don’t quite know what to do with each other at first. They are room-mates. They are predator and prey.

Chucky doesn’t understand why Gally is sometimes on edge.

“You’re a bear,” Gally says, grinning broadly. “Seal’s gotta be careful.”

“Seal,” Chucky says, uncertainly.

“Selkie,” Gally clarifies. “The trainers have my skin. When we’re on the coast I go to the beach and hang with my people.”

Chucky is silent for quite some time. He doesn’t seem to be angry, just - thinking, maybe. Gally turns on the TV because he has run out of things to say. This is rare for him and makes him uneasy.

Halfway through an old episode of _Real Vampire Housewives of Miami_ , Chucky picks up his phone and starts doing - something. Gally could get up and find out but that would be weird and rude, and he’s only a pest on the ice.

“ _Rusalka_ ,” Chucky says, as the credits are rolling.

“Rus-what?” Gally asks. The word is vaguely familiar.

“ _Ru-sal-ka._ That’s what you are,” Chucky says, perhaps a little tentative, briefly turning his phone so Gally can see the Wikipedia page on his screen. “I don’t hunt _rusalka._ ”

Gally considers stealing Chucky’s phone, but: the full moon is three days away. Chucky is always more bear-like when the moon is close. Sometimes he forgets he can have claws right up until he needs them to win a wrestling match. Prusty has the scars to prove it, because unlike Gally, Prusty has not yet learned to pay attention to the different ways Chucky growls.

“I am not a fucking _mermaid_ ,” Gally says a minute later, dropping his tablet on the bed.

Chucky frowns, confused. Gally crosses his arms over his - broad, manly - chest.

“Selkie,” Gally says. “Seal-man. I have, like, flippers, and shit.” 

“You change with the moon?” Chucky asks, eyebrows shooting upwards.

“No, I change when -” Gally pauses. Explaining his pelt is always hard. “I change whenever I want. Next time we’re by the sea, I’ll show you.”

**

Montauk is not Gally’s favorite location for swimming. The beach is rocky, the water is cold, the locals are kind of snooty. But it’s relatively private, and it’s the only colony within driving distance of the rink.

He pulls his skin out of the bag and shakes it out. It’s clean and dry - the trainers take very good care of it - but still smells of the sea. He sticks his face in it and inhales deeply.

“What the fuck?” Chucky says, from behind him. 

They are, mercifully, alone on the beach; the driver assigned to them by the team had accepted a bribe of coffee and donut holes to stay in the car. 

Gally might also have pointed out that if they met anything meaner than Chucky out there, they had problems. Chucky had punched him in the shoulder, but: seriously, _werebear._ Gally is pretty sure between the two of them they can handle whatever the ocean wants to throw at them.

“It’s my pelt, dude,” Gally says, twisting and holding it up so Chucky can see it.

Chucky looks alarmed.

“Relax, bro, it’s fine,” Gally says, handing it to him.

Chucky takes it, holds it out in front of him for a minute, his expression shading from concern to intent study. He’s a bear but he’s not a _dumb_ bear, and Gally will fight anyone who says so.

Gally strips quickly, then tugs the pelt away from Chucky and steps into it, pulls it around himself.

The magic takes hold at his ankles and ripples up his calves and thighs, until he flops ungracefully on the beach. This part is not his favorite. Seal vision is weird, outside the water, and also he _likes_ seeing the world in color. Plus this body, while baller in the ocean, is hard to maneuver on sand.

“Brendan,” Chucky says, loudly, and crouches down next to him.

Other downside to being a seal: inability to roll his eyes and/or sigh.

Gally humps over and noses Chucky’s knee in a way that he hopes conveys _It’s me and I’m fine, dumbass._

Chucky pets strokes his head, tentatively at first, and then more firmly, and mumbles something in Russian. Gally thinks he might be smiling. Gally headbutts his knee again and rolls away, down the beach and into the surf.

Chucky comes after him, yelling - something - Gally isn’t really paying attention. The sea is _right there_ and he wants to _swim._

So he goes in.

Just for a minute, long enough to get wet and ride a couple of swells. It’s awesome. He loves being a seal.

He lets one big wave deposit him back on the beach, practically on Chucky’s feet.

Chucky crouches down again, runs a hand over Gally’s belly like he’s checking for injuries.

Gally wiggles and flips on to his side and thinks hard about having hands and - then he does, legs, too.

Chucky jerks back and falls over on his ass in the sand.

Gally only laughs at him for, like, thirty seconds, tops. Then he gets up, shakes the sand off his pelt, puts his clothes on, walks back to the car, and makes the driver take them somewhere with good pasta.

**

“I won’t eat you,” Chucky says later that night, while Gally is sitting on his bed in his pajamas, towel-drying his hair.

Gally pauses for a minute - they _had_ been talking about the game, and in particular the awesome goal Gally scored in the third - then drops the towel.

Chucky is making an very earnest face, which mostly just makes him look twelve. Normally Gally would throw a pillow at him, for being ridiculous, but - he does actually feel better.

“Thanks, bro,” Gally says, sincerely and settles back against his headboard. “I won’t eat you either.”

Chucky bursts out laughing. Gally does throw a pillow at him that time - he’s a badass seal, he could eat somebody, if he wanted to. If they were in the ocean and maybe not moving too fast.

Chucky flings the pillow back at him, still laughing. Gally gets up and jumps on him and they wrestle until Chucky makes a noise that Gally knows means _you are about to get clawed._ Gally gives him one last noogie, steals the remote, and falls back on his bed, a little sweaty but mostly pleased with himself and the world.

When he looks over Chucky is grinning at him, because he is a dumbass. 

Gally settles against his pillows and turns the TV on. They played well, and deserve some non-educational programming.

“ _Amazing Race_ , with the super jacked werewolf team?” Gally asks, clicking through the guide.

Chucky grunts in response, which Gally takes as agreement.

The next time he looks over, Chucky is crashed out and curled around his pillow. Gally reaches out and turns the light off, and lets the television lull him to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Written as part of a "prompt me" thing I'm doing on Tumblr. [You can play too, if you'd like!](http://sailorstkwrning.tumblr.com/post/131987090556/trying-to-break-a-creative-logjam-staring-at-my)


End file.
